The Usual Suspect
by Skydiver1
Summary: Faith and the Watcher's Council discuss the events of NFA.
1. Chapter 1

The Watcher's Council's new headquarters - London:

Faith was more than a little uneasy. She surveyed her present surroundings, taking in the overstuffed chairs, the long, heavy dark conference table, the dark paneling, the thick velvet curtains blocking the bright sunshine, and shivered slightly. 

She wondered again just what she, bad girl extraordinairre, was doing here. Somehow she'd gotten stuck with the job of shepherding a gaggle of new slayers to the reconstituted Watcher's Council headquarters in London. Sure, Giles had assured her that considering the circumstances, the surviving council members were willing to let bygones by bygones, but despite his assurances, she still felt more than a little nervous to be surrounded by various Watchers, some of whom had tried to kill her.

Faith pushed her fears aside as an ancient Watcher, who from the looks of him, probably remembered Queen Victoria, began to speak. As he droned on and on about the history of the Watcher's Council, she began to relax. Three hours later, after listening to one long-winded bore after another, she started suspecting they were trying to bore their audience to death. Several of the young slayers were openly yawning, while Giles himself appeared to be doing a crossword puzzle.

Faith surreptitiously stretched. Fighting back a yawn, she tried to pay attention to the current speaker. She was startled to realize that he was Roger Wyndham-Pryce, father of her one-time watcher, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Completely awake, she turned her full attention towards him.

"The next order of business is to discuss the recent events in America. Namely, the destruction of the Wolfram and Hart building, the carnage caused by the demonic army which materialized last May, and," Roger's voice wavered slightly, "the deaths of each and every member of Angel Investigations."

For one horrible moment, Faith was afraid that Wyndham-Pryce would break down. He paused for a moment, then, in full control of his emotions, continued. Gotta admire those Brits and their stiff upper lip, she thought, relieved.

"As I was saying, our information is sketchy at best, but it seems that the vampire," Roger couldn't quite bring himself to speak Angel's name, "apparently cajoled his inner circle to join his massively ill-conceived plan to battle the Senior Partners, whereupon they were promptly destroyed along with a large section of downtown Los Angeles."

"Superb planning," a sarcastic English voice said. "Typical yanks. Go in, smash everything, leave the clean up to others."

Roger ignored the interruption and continued his report. "Among the casualties were one Winifred Burkle, Charles Gunn, and William the Bloody - not that I'm particularly saddened about him," Roger said.

"Quite," someone muttered. Faith felt a spurt of anger. Although she hadn't known Spike very well, he had been fighting on the side of good when he died.

Roger had to give the devil his due. "It must be said they did manage to eliminate the Krell demonic cult, Archduke Sebassis, a powerful sorcerer named Vail, and an entire nest of demons," he said. "Also another member of the law firm was discovered shot to death in the demonic lair and the body of an unidentified female found in the rubble of the Wolfram and Hart offices."

Faith felt shaken. She'd met Angel's crew shortly before Sunnydale had been destroyed. Although their acquaintance had been brief, she'd grown to like and respect them. "Are they all dead?" she asked.

"All except the Pylean demon," a council member said.  
Faith recognized Collins, one of the Council's tactical squad.

"Bit suspicious that," another council member said, frowning.

"Eh, what do you mean, Bert?" Collins said.

Bert replied, "I'm just saying, it's rather odd that everyone else involved ended up dead and this wanker walks away without a scratch." The others looked at him. "The last man standing and all that," Bert said. "Do we know his part in the fiasco?"

"According to our source in the Los Angeles police department, a tall, green, red-horned man was seen leaving the lair immediately after gunfire was heard," Collins said. "When the authorities arrived they found various non-human body parts and one human corpse. One presumes this 'Lorne' was the gunman."

"Huh, uh, no, that can't be," Faith said. "He'd never do anything like that."

"Those particular demons were noted for their swordwork. They had a moral prohibition against firearms," Collins said.

Faith remained unconvinced. "I still don't see Lorne shooting anyone."

"Mr. McDonald did not commit suicide," Collins said, a touch of asperity in his voice.

Faith was shocked. "McDonald? You mean Lindsey McDonald? I knew him," said Faith, not wishing to go into the details of her acquaintance with Lindsey. "Are you sure?"

"I am quite sure," Collins snapped. "There were no less than three eyewitnesses who saw him leave moments after hearing two shots fired. Unfortunately, due to the pandemonium caused by the vampire and his friends, the rescue workers were unable to arrive in time to help the unfortunate man."

"Well, Lorne must have had a good reason," Faith said.

Roger Wyndham-Pryce peered at her. "A good reason for a demon to kill a human? Pray enlighten us, Ms. Lehane," he said caustically. Several members of the Council muttered angrily.

"Look, I didn't know Lorne that well, but I do know that he was one of Angel's most trusted friends," Faith said vehemently. "I know he's a demon but he's harmless."

"And just why did you know Lorne was harmless, nay, helpful?" Giles looked at Faith over his glasses.

"Uh, because . . . ," her voice trailed off.

"Because what? Because he told everyone that he was a harmless demon?" said Giles caustically. 

Faith started to speak, then stopped. 

"Do we know what this Pylean's plans are?" Collins said. "Has he been seen since the disaster? Has he been raising a demonic army?"

"Ahem," Roger said. "According to our source in Las Vegas, the Pylean is currently starring in a singing act at the Montecito."

"It could be a cover," Bert said, unwilling to give up.

"What are you saying?" Faith said angrily. "Are you trying to tell me that Lorne, of all people, was some kind of demon mastermind who got everyone else killed? Are you serious! We're talking about Lorne here. Lorne, the singing demon who ran a nightclub. Besides, if he was such a bad guy, how come he's working in Vegas?"

"She has a point there, Bert," Collins said. 

Bert scowled. "Am I the only one who saw 'The Usual Suspects'?" he said. "It's always the one you least expect"  
"No, it's too farfetched," Giles said. "The very notion is ridiculous. Only in movies is the lone survivor automatically a suspect." The assembled watchers and slayers nodded their agreement.

Giles continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we can conclude the Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan is completely innocent of any ulterior motives and since his 'victim' was an employee of Wolfram and Hart, we can assume that the man must have done something to deserve his fate. Let us move to the next order of business."

"Hear, hear," the Council members said.

Epilogue:

Backstage at the Montecito casino in Las Vegas a tall green demon sipped a seabreeze and mused:

Take one egotistical, self-centered, hypocritical poseur, one babbling nut-case, one spoiled princess, one upper-class twit who wildly overestimated both his intelligence and competency and one self-pitying, lazy homeboy. What do you get? Angel Investigations. Helping the helpless, that is, when they weren't busy being the helpless themselves.

Notice how smoothly I took out the heart of the group. Sure, I knew she'd been 'jasminated', but it wasn't until I performed the wake-up spell, that things really got rolling, apocalypse-wise.

Didn't anyone think it was suspicious that I was never around when the Beast was on a rampage? Or that I was the one who woke it up in the first place? Did no one think to ask why, since I'm so psychic, I didn't see Jasmine coming? Or why I, unlike every other demon in LA, fell under her thrall? 

Going back a bit, why I didn't know Connor was going to entomb Angel under the sea? Or just why I thought Angelus was Angel? Or, after hearing Darla sing, why I didn't warn them that Drusilla was on her way to re-vamp Darla? Instead I sent Angel off on a wild goose chase, thus allowing Lindsey plenty of time to carry out his plan. Funny, you might have thought they'd have been an eensy bit suspicious after that fiasco.

Speaking of Lindsey, it was pretty sweet the way I was able to get Angel to betray him by claiming I just knew he would go bad. I had to do it, otherwise Lindsey would have survived the carnage, and assumed his place as new CEO of Evil, Inc. That's my new job.

You'd think that since Angel was there the last time I heard Lindsey sang, and my reaction was to beam fulsomely and say "Isn't he fabulous", and tell them that they should work together, that maybe, just maybe, there was the eensiest chance that I could have been slightly less than truthful. Great set of pipes on the boy, too bad I had to kill him. It's the one thing I regret. But not to sound all pollyanna, it did give me a cast-iron excuse to skip out on the big battle.

Yeah, good old Angelcakes wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier or he would have wondered how a penniless demon refugee from a hell dimension was able to open up a night club in the first place. 

None of them were too bright. They saw exactly what I wanted them to see: Good old Lorne, the court jester, the class clown. What a bunch of morons!

Tonight's the night. All those years of planning and hard work, well, other people's hard work, are going to pay off. I've eliminated both Wolfram and Hart and the Power's champion. I'm the hottest act in Vegas and tonight's audience is filled with VIP's: politicians, captains of industry and the movers and shakers of the entertainment world. In just a few short minutes I'll have them under my spell. They'll be putty in my hands. Everything I want, I'll have. In a few months time, I'll rule the world. Look out - Lorne is coming!

A flunky interrupted Lorne's musing. "Two minutes to showtime, Mr. Green."

Lorne put down his seabreeze, stood up, and stepped out onto the stage.

The End. 


	2. Chapter 2

Connor entered the backstage entrance of the Montecito amphitheater. It had taken him a while, but he'd managed to put the puzzle pieces together. Ridiculous as it might sound, but it wasn't until he caught a repeat of "The Usual Suspects" on cable, that he realized just how suspicious Lorne's survival had been. Everyone else ends up dead, but he walks away without a scratch? Connor thought. Something's wrong with that scenario.

Once he started thinking along those lines, everything fell into place. Connor had spent the next several months researching Pylea, the Deathwok clan's abilities and ambitions, and Lorne's activities over the last few years and came to the conclusion that the whole "good demon" had been a cover. I was right about him, Connor had thought bitterly. I should have taken him out when I had the chance.

Connor crept quietly towards Lorne. Just as Lorne was about to go on stage, Connor struck. After his work was done, he used his supernatural agility to leap up onto the rafters. He watched the stagehands, paramedics and various casino security officers rushing around frantically with amusement.

(Much later, a baffled security team would use every high-tech means to discover what had happened to no avail. The cameras merely showed a blur for several minutes, then only the gruesome sight of Lorne lying in pieces. The security team had no way of knowing that Connor had used magic to make himself invisible to surveillance equipment.)

Finally, the commotion died down. Connor jumped to the floor and nonchalantly strolled out of the casino. Okay, I've avenged my dad, so what do I do with my life now? I can't go back to being a regular college student, not after all this, he thought.

I know, I'll go to London and offer my services to the Watcher's Council. Dad would have liked that. And while I'm there, I'll look up that hot brunette slayer, he thought, smiling. Sure, she's got a few years on me, but I've always liked older women.

The End. 


End file.
